


Twilight: Rewritten

by BringMeBackToEarth



Category: Twilight (Movies), Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Gen, Re-Writing Twilight, twilight - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2019-07-16 12:34:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16086203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BringMeBackToEarth/pseuds/BringMeBackToEarth
Summary: A re-written version of some of the fundamental scenes from the first Twilight movie. Includes: a stronger Bella character, less controlling relationships, and just as much romance.





	1. Introduction

Hello, fellow readers! 

Before I even delve into this re-written version of Twilight, I’d like to explain my motives. Whilst working on my undergraduate, I was enrolled in a Young Adult Literature class. One of the assignments for this class was to examine a YA (Young Adult) phenomenon in the last twenty years and examine how and why this phenomenon took place. Though I never hopped on the Twilight bandwagon, I distinctly remembered the stir it caused in my own town and schools--particularly after the films were released.

During my examination of the Twilight fad, I watched all the movies and skimmed parts of the first book. During this “research,” I couldn’t help but feel troubled by the fact that this story had even become a phenomenon in the first place. Don’t get me wrong--the human/vampire/werewolf plot and love triangle is very appealing, when it comes to genre and has been done well by countless authors and filmmakers. And yet, I found myself cringing at and confused by many parts of the films and the parts of the first book I had skimmed. Though the foundational storyline for Twilight has great potential, I found that I was very concerned about the characters and relationships that were being portrayed. Edward’s over-protectiveness and Jacob’s inability to accept no as an answer concerned me. And this was the very topic of my discussion--what did it mean that so many women, in particular, had been taken in by this story that does not do justice to healthy relationships, nor strong women? 

Then, weeks after I’d completed my assignment and research, I started imagining what Twilight would have been like, had it be written with Bella as a stronger character and less dependence between the two leads. I found myself re-writing specific scenes from the movie with Bella as a stronger young woman and Edward as a less protective, controlling character. I even found myself wishing that Bella had never become a vampire. As I thought about these different scenes, I started to write an alternate ending, where Bella managed to find a cure to the “vampirism,” and she and Edward had a chance to live a long, successful, and perfectly happy human life together. Thus, here we are, reading this re-written version.

Before you start reading, I want to make a few things very clear: I am not re-writing the first book word for word, nor scene by scene. In fact, I’m not re-writing the book at all. My new chapters are based entirely on the Twilight film, as I never completed the book all the way through. As a result, there are likely many scenes and moments that occured in the book that will not be changed in this version, simply because I’m not even aware that they exist. This is also why I’ve started the first chapter when Bella is already in school. I’m assuming that my readers will be familiar with the story and the exposition.

Secondly, my version of Bella is very different from the Bella that was portrayed in the film. Though I have no problem with her being a supposedly “plain” and “average-looking” young lady, I have written her as a much stronger, more intelligent character. In this story, Bella is very interested in microbiology and is interested in pursuing a college career in this very field. (Note: If you find it hard to picture a Bella Swan that is interested in microbiology, then you’ve perfectly captured the problem with Bella’s depiction in the original novel. 

Lastly, I want to make it very clear that--if you were a fan of the original novels/movie--I in no way intend to belittle or mock your fondness for this story. I am a firm believer that, as a society, we have a nasty tendency to mock and tear down others for their thoughts, beliefs, preferences, likes, dislikes, etc. And I wish that we could find a way to simply allow people to watch what they want to watch, read what they want to read, and enjoy what they want to enjoy without judging them. As a result, if you are a fan of the original story, I want to make it very clear that I do not mean to belittle nor taunt your choice of literature in any way. I simply found a few flaws with the story that I wish to address and alter in my own way. But, just as I am free to see flaws with the story, you are free to find it flawless. 

And now, without further ado, I present to you Twilight: Rewritten.


	2. The Cullens

After a positively miserable fifty minutes in P.E. (hand/eye coordination was not my strong suit), I headed into the cafeteria with my new-found friends, Jessica Stanley and Mike Newton. After I had loaded a sandwich, apple, and bottle of water onto my tray, Jessica and Mike directed me towards a circular table located near the windows, through which all that could be seen was the grey drizzle of the early afternoon. Shortly after taking our seats, we were joined by Eric, who--as he had done when I first entered the school--sidled close to me and once again began inquiring.

“So,” he began with a warm but sly smile, “Isabella Swann…” He emphasized my name as if it were something to be revered. I frowned disapprovingly in response and turned my gaze back to my food. “Yes?” I asked reluctantly.

“You’re sure we can’t feature you in the school newspaper? “New Girl From Arizona” is headline-worthy news around here.”

I rolled my eyes, but smiled just the same. “I’d really prefer not to be front-page news,” I told him simply. 

Eric nodded his head fervently. “Got it. No feature.” He wrapped an arm around me. “Don’t worry, baby. I got you covered.” 

Mike cleared his throat loudly as I shrugged out from under Eric’s unwanted touch. “And ixnay on the physical contact,” I told him, raising a brow. I didn’t like being hugged, kissed, cuddled, or otherwise touched really at all--and certainly not by someone I barely knew. Even hugs from Renee were difficult to bear most days. 

I glanced between Eric and Mike, who were practically glaring at each other, their faces both flushing different shades of pink. I noticed Jessica daring glances toward Mike out of the side of her eye, and desperately wished I could somehow deflect the unwanted attention I was receiving onto Jessica, who clearly wanted it. 

Luckily, both Mike and Eric became otherwise engaged when a girl I had not yet met sat down at our table, next to Jessica. She had dark olive skin and silky black hair, which was tucked behind her head in a graceful ponytail--the kind I had always hoped to achieve. My complete inability to do hair, however, meant that my ponytails often ended up looking like a rat’s nest by the end of the day. It was for this reason that I often kept my hair down or pushed back with headbands. Simple and quick. A sleek pair of glasses rested on the girl’s nose. She smiled at me and then pulled out a camera from where it had apparently been resting atop her lap. “Hi,” she said kindly, throwing me a welcoming and genuine smile--the first genuine act of kindness I had seen all day. “My name’s Angela. I’m in charge of taking pictures for our newspaper and I was wondering if I could take one of your for our feature that’s coming out this week?” She raised the camera, clearly expecting I would not mind.

I chuckled slightly and then raised a hand. “If you don’t mind,” I started, hoping to explain to her that I really was not too keen on having my face plastered over the front page of the Forks High School Newspaper. There came a sudden crash to my right, however, and I jumped, unable to finish my sentence. Eric had slammed down his meal tray in a seemingly dramatic act of defiance. Angela, Jessica, and I frowned at him in unison. 

“We’re not doing the feature anymore, Angela! Stop pestering her!” With a huff and a deep frown, Eric shoved himself into a standing position and then stomped away from our table, tray in hand.

Angela’s face fell and she lowered the camera. “Sorry,” she mumbled with a feeble attempt at a smile. “I didn’t know.”

I returned her smile. “No need to be sorry,” I assured her. “You couldn't have known that I’m a socially-awkward introvert whose worst nightmares include finding myself at the center of anything.” I gestured behind me to Eric’s retreating figure. “I’m sorry about him. There was no need to belittle you for something you couldn’t possibly have known.”

“Yeah,” Jessica agreed as she munched on a carrot. “He’s just trying to get on Bella’s good side because he thinks she’s hot.”  
The smile returned to Angela’s face and brightened her warm features. “Ah, I see. Makes sense. I’m Angela, by the way.” She extended a hand.

“Isabella Swan,” I replied, grasping her hand in my own and shaking it. “Though I prefer to go by Bella.”

“Bella. Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Bella. Welcome to Forks.” 

I returned the smile she had flashed at me and, for the first time that day, it was genuine. I glanced down at my food, picking different parts of it off as Jessica and Angela chatted idly about something. I wasn’t paying attention, however; my thoughts were calculating how many minutes I had left until Biology--one of my favorite classes back home in Phoenix. I was hoping to continue my preliminary studies into stem cell research and nerve regeneration at Forks, though I had slightly lower expectations for the caliber of courses, resources, and opportunities that Forks would be able to provide, compared to Phoenix. Still, I was looking forward to the familiar escape that science always seemed to provide. 

I was pulled away from my hopeful thoughts, however, when I sensed a distinct change in the atmosphere of the cafeteria. It seemed as if everyone was holding their breaths, quieting their conversations. I glanced around the room, but was unable to find the source of the unusual atmospheric change. “Has something happened?” I asked Jessica and Angela, who seemed to be immune to the strange feeling and were still chatting idly with each other.

Angela frowned slightly before glancing around. Understanding dawned on her features. She worried her bottom lip with her straight teeth and then smiled, turning slightly in her seat. I glanced towards where she had angled her body. Jessica followed, turning around in her seat. A wide grin then danced over her lips. “Oh,” she murmured in a knowing way.

Creasing my brows together in confusion, my gaze swept across the area Angela seemed to have indicated. But I saw nothing out of the ordinary, save for a group of students that could be seen through the cafeteria windows. They appeared to be walking toward the door that would lead them from outside into the cafeteria. I frowned at Angela. “Them?” I nodded in the direction of the students, the first of which had opened the door and was taking a step into the cafeteria. 

She nodded, raising a brow.

“Who are they?” I asked, though subtext of the question was more akin to, Why has their presence caused the entire student body to quiet and stare?

“The Cullens,” Angela began, crossing her arms and setting them on the table. “They’re Doctor and Mrs. Cullen’s foster kids, but… Well, they’re a little different from most of the students here.” I frowned inquisitively, turning my gaze back to the first pair of Cullens that had entered the cafeteria. I squinted, hoping to ascertain what exactly made them so different. It was when the two began walking closer to our table that I started to understand. 

Firstly, the two people walking toward me looked nothing like the surrounding student body--or any high school student body, for that matter. The girl had blonde hair that cascaded down her back in perfect curls. She smiled at the boy that was walking next to her, flashing a set of perfect teeth nestled behind full and voluptuous lips. Her sharp cheekbones accentuated the fullness of her face--which, now I was looking at it, was completely clear of imperfections, and extremely pale. She stood tall and slender and wore tight clothes that accentuated each dip and curve of her waist, hips, and thighs. She walked with purpose and confidence, wearing a small smile that suggested she knew just how alluring she was.

Despite the undeniably breathtaking beauty of the girl’s features, however, it was her eyes that caught mine. They were a dark shade of gold that almost seemed to be swimming and glowing with attentiveness. The eyes scanned the lunchroom quickly as she walked by, passing over me, but never stopping to look further. And I couldn’t help but wonder why she would stop and look at anyone else in the school, given the boy striding alongside her. 

Like her, he was physically stunning--perfectly proportioned features, golden coiffed hair, and an impeccable sense of style. Unlike her, however, his physical features were far more distracting. He had huge, rippling muscles which looked as if they were threatening to break through the fabric that was constraining them. His forearms alone were bigger than my calves. Every inch of him seemed to be peppered with bulging veins--as if they were begging the user to lay off the weights. Next to the girl, he looked positively hulking. And yet, for a man of his size, he walked with impeccable grace and accuracy. Like her, his eyes were the same shade of mesmerizing gold. They swept past us without a second glance and it was then that I noticed the second distinction that made them so different from the rest of the student body. 

The two, who were supposed to be adopted siblings, were holding hands in a way that was not indicative of a brother/sister relationship. I felt my eyebrows crease further together when, after taking a seat, the two shared a quick--but rather passionate--kiss. I turned a confused and questioning gaze toward Angela and Jessica. “Are they... together?”

Angela nodded with a knowing smile. Jessica grinned, seemingly eager to gossip about all the rumors surrounding the Cullens. She scooted closer to me. “The two you just saw walk in” -- she gestured behind me, stabbing her fork into the air -- “are Rosalie and Emmett. They’re seniors this year. And yes, they’re both together together.” She raised her eyebrows and then added, “They all are.”

I frowned and was about to ask what she meant when the next pair of Cullens swept by our table. I glanced at them, taking in their alabaster complexions, graceful strides, and golden eyes. 

“Those two,” Jessica told me in a slight whisper, “are Alice and Jasper. They’re the weirdest of them all. Jasper always looks like he’s in pain and Alice literally always dances her way everywhere.”

As Jessica said it, I realized she was completely right. Jasper’s features, though beautiful and unmarred like his siblings, were crinkled in what appeared to be pain or deep concentration. His lips were pressed into a thin line and his eyes seemed to scan the room nervously; far more than Rosalie or Emmett had. Though he was physically stunning, he seemed to walk through the cafeteria with less confidence and ease than his brother and sisters. 

I turned my gaze from Jasper, who was clutching a pair of books in his right hand, to the girl beside him, who had wrapped both hands around Jasper’s free one and seemed to be leading him through the cafeteria. Whereas Rosalie strode with the assured grace and elegance of a well-seasoned runway model, Alice skipped across the floor with the litheness and weight of a ballerina. Each of her steps had a distinct bounce in them, and she wore an easy, dreamy smile on her lips. I watched as she quite literally twirled around Jasper--who remained rigid and pained--before continuing towards the table. She hopped slightly before taking a seat next to Emmett and then pulling out the chair for Jasper. I noticed her hair was cropped short into a pixie cut and that she wore a loose, light purple dress--which was very reminiscent of the flapper dresses worn in the Roaring Twenties--with dainty flats. Overall, she reminded me of a fairy. 

“I guess you could say Dr. Cullen is more like a matchmaker than a foster dad,” Jessica said with a scoff. “It’s a little weird, if you ask me.” 

Angela raised a brow. “They’re not actually related, Jess,” she scolded before turning back to me. “They seem like very nice people, and they’ve never been unkind to me. Personally, the whole situation doesn’t bother me that much. Each is the only family the other has.” 

“It’s still weird, though,” Jessica mumbled with a sly smile. “Especially considering they all live together.” 

I watched Alice place a tender kiss atop Jasper’s cheekbone. “Do they ever intermingle?” I asked to no one in particular.

“No, they pretty much keep to themselves,” Angela supplied, her arms still folded. 

I turned back to my food. I could feel Rosalie, Emmett, Alice, and Jasper’s presence behind me and I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Before I could inquire any further, however, the cafeteria door opened one last time. As I glanced in the direction of the opening door, I watched both Angela and Jessica turn expectantly in the seats. My eyes fell upon what I knew had to be another Cullen sibling; he had the same perfectly sculpted features and alabaster skin. There was something instantly different about him, however.

I glanced to Jessica as she sighed, “Edward,” and then turned my gaze back to the final Cullen in question. 

Unlike his siblings, who were all impeccably dressed in a way no normal high schooler should be, Edward wore a casual t-shirt, fitted jeans, and simple black dress shoes. One hand was curled loosely around a set of books and a notebook, while the other was tucked inside his pocket. He had bronze hair that had been styled to stand off his forehead. Though he didn’t smile, intuition informed me that his teeth were, like his siblings, nearly perfect.

Though Edward walked with the same surety and grace as his siblings, I noticed there was something immediately different about him--apart from the rather obvious fact that he had not entered with a partner. Whereas Jasper, Alice, Rosalie, and Emmett had all entered with a sense of casualness--their postures relaxed, young, lively--Edward walked with his back straight and his eyes to the ground. His gaze did not seem to fall to the ground out of embarrassment or self-consciousness, however. Rather, it was as if he were listening to a particularly complicated piece of music, and needed the constant image of the tiles running beneath him to remain truly focused on the song’s beauty and complexity. I suddenly realized another way he was distinctly different from his siblings. Whereas the other Cullens had golden honey irises, Edward’s were dark black. 

I heard Jessica practically sigh again as Edward neared our table. His gaze swept over the cafeteria before eventually settling upon our table. I couldn’t help but notice the small--almost smug--smile that danced across Edward’s lips as he cast his gaze upon me. It was as if he was expecting me to do or say something that he’d heard a thousand times before. Our brows creased in tandem, however, when our eyes connected for the briefest of moments. I frowned as the smile slid from Edward’s lips to be replaced by an expression of deep consternation and confusion. His eyes flicked back to me for another brief moment, and it was clear that, whatever it was he had been expecting of me, did not happen.

And then, just like that, he had glided past us and taken a seat in the only remaining chair at his family’s table.

I turned my attention back to Angela and Jessica and then raised my brows as if to ask, What’s the deal?

Angela answered my silent question. “Nobody really knows. They’ve always kept to themselves and seem to prefer it that way.”

“And you said Dr. Cullen is their foster dad?”

Angela nodded. 

“Yet he’s found nobody for Edward?” I asked sarcastically with an eyeroll. I hadn’t liked the way he’d scrutinized me, seemingly disappointed by what he’d found. 

“Maybe he’ll adopt me,” Angela giggled, laughing in such a way that indicated she was far from serious. 

Jessica shook her head with a sigh. “Guess nobody here is good enough for him,” she muttered bitterly.

I smiled and exchanged a knowing glance with Angela before returning to my food. 

Once I’d finished my lunch, I stood and made to dump the remains in the garbage. As I turned around and headed toward the nearest trash bin, I glanced compulsively to my left, having had the distinct feeling of being watched. And I was correct. Edward’s eyes were on me, intense and burning. The frown still remained, deep-set upon his lips. Though he could clearly see me staring back at him with a scowl of my own, Edward did not look away. Instead, he murmured something to Alice, who was sitting next to him, and then finally broke our gaze with a disdainful shake of his head. Though I was usually very good at reading people, I found I was having a difficult time deconstructing Edward Cullen. 

My face burning with confused contempt, I tossed my food in the trash with more force than was necessary and then headed out of the cafeteria. I met back up with Angela in the hallway. “Is Edward usually so…” I searched for the right words. “Brooding?”

Angela contemplated. “I don’t know if I’d say brooding. He usually just ignores most of us, to be honest. Though he’s polite if he ever has to interact with you.”

I nodded and smiled in thanks. 

“Which class are you headed to?” Angela asked.

“Biology, I think.” I pulled out my schedule, quite relieved when I found I was right. Biology was one of my favorite subjects (closely followed by Chemistry). Hopefully fifty minutes of microscopic samples would help me to forget how unnerved I’d been by the way Edward had looked at me. “Think you could point me in the right direction?”

“Of course. Go down to the end of this hallway, take a right, and then Mr. Molina’s classroom is the last on your left,” Angela told me, pausing outside her class.

“Thanks.”

“No problem! It was great meeting you, Bella.” She ducked into the classroom with a warm smile and wave.


	3. Biology

Tucking my schedule back into my bookbag, I headed in the direction Angela had indicated. In truth, I was quite anxious to meet Mr. Molina and determine if he would be much help in my desires to pursue a career in microbiology. I tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear as I approached the classroom. Mr. Molina was standing outside the door, ready to greet me instantly. 

“Ah, Isabella Swann, glad to see you made it here!” he exclaimed in rapid-fire speech. “Word travels fast throughout the school, so I was expecting you. Of course, I also received an adjusted class roster with you on it, so that was an indicator, as well. But! All these things are beside the point. Your father tells me you’re very interested in biology, and have a knack for it to boot, so we won’t worry about any catch-up assignments, you just jump right in, alright? If you have any questions or ever get confused, don’t hesitate to ask. Shall we go in?”

I blinked once, a faint and amused smile on my lips, and then nodded. “Yes, thank you.”

The moment I stepped into the room, I could sense his eyes upon me. The smile faded from my lips. I listened to Mr. Molina ramble on about how the class was currently studying the parts of a cell, but turned my attention to the gaze I could feel boring into the side of my face. 

Edward was seated at one of the labs, an empty seat next to him. His eyebrows were pulled taut over his dark eyes in an almost pained expression. His black irises burned with something I couldn’t quite place... Something that almost looked like a dark and dangerous form of lust. I felt my blood run cold in mild fear when Edward’s lips parted just slightly, revealing the tips of his perfectly straight teeth. 

“... and your seat for the rest of the year will, of course be, next to Mr. Edward Cullen over there.” Mr. Molina’s words drifted back into the forefront. The distaste must have been clear upon my face, because Mr. Molina suddenly asked, “Is that alright, Isabella? It is the only open seat remaining.” 

I shook my head and cleared the expression quickly, replacing it with an easy smile. “I’m sorry, Mr. Molina. I was just distracted. That seat is just fine.”

Though Edward was far out of earshot of Mr. Molina and myself, I saw him cringe in my peripheral.

Mr. Molina relaxed. “Great. Here’s your worksheet for today’s class, then. You can take your seat.” He handed me a worksheet. I glanced at it. It had a plant and animal cell, each with boxes and bars extending from the different parts. We had to label them. 

Paper in hand, I heaved a sigh and then marched toward my seat. I kept my eyes on Edward and was quite relieved to find he was staring determinedly at the tabletop. I was a few feet away when the air conditioning kicked on. A gust of air hit me just right and blew through my hair, tangling it. I would have been more concerned with detangling my curls had Edward not thrown a hand in front of his mouth and nose, and squeezed his eyes shut, as if he were about to vomit.

I’ll admit, I didn’t appreciate the way he’d scrutinized me in the cafeteria. But now I was downright offended. I had just showered that morning and even if I hadn’t, I knew I did not smell that bad. Raising an unamused brow, I dropped my bookbag on the floor and then took a seat atop the open stool. Edward had pressed himself against the nearby wall--quite literally as far away from me as he could possibly get. 

Mr. Molina started class, oblivious to Edward’s behavior, which was far from conspicuous. 

Attempting to ignore Edward’s rigid from, I quickly filled out the worksheet while Mr. Molina reviewed--I’d already learned the parts of the cell--and then crossed my arms and leaned against the countertop. I glanced at Edward’s paper and was mildly surprised to find it completely filled out--I squinted--and correctly. 

Though Edward’s eyes were on Mr. Molina, his hand was still clasped over his mouth and nose. He almost seemed to be struggling to breathe. For a moment, I worried that he might have been suffering from some sort of panic attack or illness. But then his eyes darted to mine and I saw the same icy malice I had seen in the cafeteria and I knew he was far from ill. 

I crossed my arms around my torso, suddenly quite cold. 

 

***

 

Class seemed to drag on forever. Both because I’d already learned everything Mr. Molina had taught and because I was hyper-aware of Edward’s tense form next to mine. 

Finally--mercifully--the bell rang. I quite literally jumped in my seat when, the moment the high-pitched tolling rang through the classroom, Edward jumped out of his seat and darted out. The rush of air he left in his wake ruffled my dark curls. Now quite genuinely angry that Edward Cullen was treating me like one of the most disgusting creatures he’d ever encountered, I gathered my books with a huff and then exited the classroom.

I stalked to my next class, partly hoping that Edward would be there, so I could confront him about his garish behavior--which, given what Angela and Jessica had said, seemed to be reserved exclusively for me. I was met with disappointment however, when English started and none of my classmates included Edward Cullen.

By the end of the day, my temper had cooled significantly, though I was still prepared to find Edward in the parking lot and determine what his problem was. Bookbag slung over my shoulder, I hurried out into the parking lot, hoping to catch Edward before he departed. I caught sight of a collection of unmistakable people clustered together around a set of very expensive cars. It was then that I saw Edward duck into a black Volvo, which was tucked between a red Mustang and silver Jeep. The car turned on, the rear lights clicked white as Edward reversed out of his parking spot. The tires squeaked on the asphalt as he turned sharply and accelerated away from the school.

I sighed. It would just have to wait until tomorrow, then. 

As I trotted down the steps and across the parking lot to my own car, I couldn’t shake the unusual sensation that there were eyes on me. Just before I reached the truck, I dared a glance behind me and was quite unnerved to find all four of the remaining Cullens’ eyes on me. Though Emmett and Jasper looked as if they were simply studying me, it was Alice’s and Rosalie’s expressions that I found most worrying. Whereas Rosalie’s face had been unmarred with angelic beauty and ease in the cafeteria, it was now set into an equally-beautiful expression of loathing and disgust. Alice, by comparison, was smiling knowingly at me, as if she was waiting for me to figure out a clever joke. None of them seemed to mind or notice that I had caught them staring at me.

Worrying my bottom lip with my teeth, I opened my truck door and hopped in, quite thankful for the separation from the Cullens’ intense gazes. 

The truck roared to life with a loud groan. Trying to make sense of what I could possibly have done to merit such mixed but extreme reactions from each of the Cullens, I backed out of my parking spot and then started the familiar drive home.

 

***

 

Charlie arrived home later than usual that evening, a pizza hand. Quite grateful, as I had not eaten dinner yet, I dished us each two slices and then followed him into the living room. “Hey, Dad?” I asked as he took a seat in his armchair.

“Yeah, Bells? What’s up?”

“Nothing much, I was just wondering… I was just wondering your opinion on the Cullens?”

HIs lips turned down slightly at the corners. “In what way?”

I shrugged. “What do you think about them?” 

“Well, I can tell you that those kids of Dr. Cullen’s are some the few to never give me any trouble in town; they’re never out partying late, no drunk driving. And I can tell you that our little podunk town is lucky as hell to have a doctor as cultured and experienced as Dr. Cullen here. They’re always very respectful. Why? Kids at school talking about them again?”

I raised a brow inquisitively. “Kids at school talk about the Cullens a lot?”

“From what I’ve heard from other parents, yeah,” Charlie answered with a somber nod. “It’s a shame that we have so many small-minded and judgemental people in this town. Whatever anyone says about them, Bella, the Cullens are a respectable, quiet, and giving family. I mean, for Dr. and Mrs. Cullen to have taken in so many foster kids when they did…” He shook his head. “Takes a specific person and level of generosity.” He then shot me with a reproachful gaze. “Get to know ‘em before you judge them too harshly,” he said quietly, raising a brow.

I smiled. “Don’t worry, I will.” I tapped my temple playfully. “Open-minded, remember?” Charlie smiled and then took a bite of pizza. “I only asked because they acted a little… unusual around me today.”

“Unusual how?”

I didn’t quite know how to explain Edward’s behavior specifically in a way that Charlie wouldn’t immediately dismiss as an exaggeration. “Well, they all stared at me quite a bit today. It was like they knew something I didn’t.”

Charlie shrugged, unconcerned. “I’m sure they were just intrigued by the new girl in school. Probably just trying to figure you out.” He then grabbed the remote and clicked the TV on, indicating the conversation was coming to a close.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” I lied. “Thanks, Dad. I’m probably going to turn in.”

“Sounds good. Night, Bells.” Charlie shot me a warm smile before returning to his game. 

Though Charlie may not have been a very expressive or affectionate parent, I sure did love him. 

 

***

 

That night, I found it difficult to sleep; my mind was too busy trying to unravel the mystery of the Cullens. I woke up the next morning unrested and quite groggy. 

After a breakfast of cereal and an apple, I loaded both myself and my books into the truck and then made my way to the school, still determined to discover the truth behind the Cullens’ unusual behavior--and Edward’s in particular.

When I pulled into the parking lot, however, I noticed that none of the Cullen’s cars were in their parking spaces. I checked my watch and realized I was rather early. As it was quite cold outside, I shuffled out of the truck and into the school. I could snag Edward and lunch and talk to him then.

When lunchtime came, however, every Cullen sibling took a seat at their usual table, apart from one: Edward. I turned to Jess and Angela, who were sitting across from me. “Have either of you seen Edward this morning?”

“Why?” Mike and Eric asked in tandem. 

I shot them both a disapproving look. “I wanted to ask him a question,” I answered simply, ignoring their scowls, and then turning my attention back to Angela and Jess. 

“I haven’t seen him today,” Angela said, her brows tugging together, as if realizing it for the first time. 

“Nada,” Jess agreed sullenly. 

“Okay, thanks.”

“What’d you want to ask him?” Mike pushed, trying--and failing--to feign disinterest.

“He was acting oddly yesterday and I wanted to ask him why.”

Mike scoffed. “The Cullens always act oddly.” 

Angela groaned. “Be nice, Mike.”

“Whatever.”

I chatted across the table with Angela while Eric, Jess, and Mike gossiped about Edward’s disappearance for the remainder of the lunch period. After separating from Angela, I made my way to biology. Mr. Molina greeted me cheerfully at the door, a hand outstretched. I passed him my homework and then proceeded into the classroom. Though I was not expecting to find Edward in his seat, given is absence at lunch, I glanced to our shared lab space. Empty. 

Rolling my eyes, I proceeded to my own seat, dropping my bookbag on the floor along the way. 

I sat through the remainder of biology, answering questions none of the other students either wanted to answer or knew the answers to. 

After class, I snagged Mr. Molina. “Hello,” I greeted with a small smile.

“Bella! Excellent job in class today! You seem to have a knack for this stuff.”

I smiled, bowing my head in embarrassed graciousness and then continued. “Thank you, Mr. Molina. Actually, I was wondering if there were any opportunities here--either with you or in town--to do some cell-based research? My high school in Arizona had a great biology program that I was really involved in. I’d love the opportunity to continue some of my work here. Think you can help?”

Mr. Molina’s eyes were practically glowing. “That’s wonderful to hear, Bella! I tell you what. We don’t have much in the way of resources here at the high school for some top-notch research, but let me contact some friends I know at the hospital and see if they’d have anything for you. I can… send you an e-mail when I know something?”

“That would be great, Mr. Molina. Thank you.”

“Not a problem, Bella. I’ll see you on Monday.”

I met up with Angela at the end of the day, having offered to drive her home during lunch. We hurried across the parking lot to where my truck was parked, trying to avoid getting too wet in the drizzle. As before, I could sense several sets of golden eyes on me. I peeked behind me just as I reached my truck to find my suspicions were confirmed. Today, however, it was only Alice and Rosalie whose gazes were following me. Upon catching my gaze, Rosalie seemed to scoff. She crawled into her own car with a venomous eyeroll. Though I couldn't be sure, it looked as if Alice had sighed and shook her head. She smiled at me in a way that was almost… reassuring. 

Shaking my head, as if to shake away the Cullens’ peculiar behavior, I hopped into the truck and then shut the door quickly behind me. Angela followed a few seconds later, an unusual expression on her face. She seemed to be smiling in a confused manner, as if she’d just seen something unusual.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, starting the truck.

“Well… did you see the way Alice and Rosalie Cullen were staring at you?”

“Yeah,” I chuckled nervously. I backed out of the parking spot and pulled away from the school. “They did that yesterday, too. Did you see Rosalie?”

“Yes! She looked so angry!”

“I’m glad I’m not the only one who noticed. Do you see what I mean, though? It seems like they have a personal vendetta against me.”

“Very strange,” Angela agreed with a chuckle. “You know what else is strange? All of the weird references Mrs. Halloway was making to Edgar Allan Poe in English today.”

We spent the remainder of the car ride home bantering back and forth about Mrs. Halloway and her strange affinity for Edgar Allan Poe references.


	4. Edward's Return

By the following Friday--going on Edward’s eighth day of absenteeism--I had become quite convinced that he’d simply given up on the institution of education and dropped out of school. It was for this reason, and the fact that Edward had once again not been at lunch, that I was genuinely surprised when I entered Mr. Molina’s classroom to find the seat next to mine filled. 

Golden eyes flicked to me and I hurriedly changed the surprised expression on my face to one of indifference. I heard Mike Newton’s distinct voice boom in the hallway behind me. He caught sight of me standing in the doorway and then clapped me on the shoulder. “Hey, Bella! We still on for our tutoring session tonight?” 

Without turning around, I answered in curt tone, “Yes, I’ll see you at 4:00 at the library. Later, Mike.” I didn’t need to turn around to tell the expression on his face was one of hurt and confusion. If I weren’t on a mission, I may have felt more guilty about my clipped tone. But I was determined to confront Edward, now he was finally forced to endure my presence for the next fifty minutes.

I shrugged out of bookbag as I walked to my seat and then set it on the ground next to lab table, as I usually did. I could feel Edward’s golden gaze following me as I did so. I pulled out my lab stool. It dragged across the floor with a loud screech. I took a seat and then filled out my name on the sheet of paper that was sitting on the table in front of me. I celebrated internally; today was lab day--meaning, I was going to have to the entire period, uninterrupted by Mr. Molina, to talk to Edward.

After writing my name, I turned my attention to the front of the classroom, where Mr. Molina had started talking.

“You’ll notice that today is a lab day. You should all have microscopes at your stations. If you don’t, please raise your hand and let me know. No? All good? Great. Our lab today is all about mitosis. You’ll notice that you currently have four different slides. On each of the slides is a sample of onion root tips. You are to examine the different slides and determine which cells are exhibiting which stages of mitosis. Please note that you also have to draw what you saw on the slide and indicate why you chose the stage you did. If you get done early, just hand in the sheet and you can have the remainder of the class to talk or work on other homework. Any questions? No? Then get going! I’ll be wandering around if anyone needs anything.” 

Taking a deep breath, I turned to finally face Edward. I was rather startled to find that he was staring at me with a warm smile playing over his lips. “Hello,” he murmured softly, his voice smooth and velvet in timbre. “I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced. My name’s Edward Cullen.”

Raising a brow, I picked one of the four slides and then set it on the microscope’s stage. “You’re back,” I stated flatly and without looking up, as I secured the slide. “You must’ve been very ill to miss an entire week of school.” 

“Yes,” Edward answered gently. “I just needed a few… mental health days. Personal reasons.” 

I could tell he’d chosen his words carefully and tried to understand why. I scoffed and he smiled questioningly. “What?” he asked, the sound soft, curious. 

“Nothing,” I replied, hoping he would pick up on the fact that I wasn’t interested in talking about me.

“You don’t believe me.” It wasn’t a question.

“Actually, if you must know, I was thinking that a few mental health days were well-deserved on your part.” His smile faltered just slightly, but the amusement and interest were still clear in his eyes. “Care to explain your behavior?” I knew he would know what I was referring to.

His mouth opened, as if he were going to say something, but then closed again. “Yes, well… Actually, I wanted to apologize about that. I no doubt offended you. And for that you have my sincerest apologies; it was never my intention.” 

I threw him a scrutinizing look, trying to discern if his apology was genuine. “Thank you,” I murmured eventually, my hardened expression softening slightly. “But you didn’t answer my question.” I passed him the paper and tapped the top, indicating he was to fill in his name. I watched him scrawl his name beneath my own in beautiful and elegant calligraphic cursive. My lips parted just slightly as he situated the paper directly between us. Where had he learned such beautiful penmanship? My attempts to unravel the secrets of Edward Cullen were becoming less and less successful. 

“I know,” he answered reluctantly. “Though you deserve one, I’m afraid I don’t have a suitable explanation for my behavior last week. I don’t suppose there’s any way you can forgive me on principle? Or on my promise that it will never happen again?”

I frowned, dissatisfied. “I’ll think about it,” I answered before turning my attention to the microscope. I leaned in, squinted into the lens, and then pulled away just a few moments later. “Anaphase,” I answered, snatching the paper and then filling in one of the numerous empty boxes. I listed the indicators of the phase and then started sketching out what I’d seen in the microscope. 

Edward wrapped several fingers around the microscope. “You mind if I have a look?”

I shrugged defensively. “Go ahead.”

I added a few details to my sketch, watching Edward in my peripheral as I did so. He cupped one hand around the lens and then peered in. Just as I had, he glanced at the magnified image for only a moment before concurring, “Anaphase.”

“Like I said,” I mumbled, eyes fixed on the paper.

I heard him chuckle. “I’m sorry I doubted you. I’ll get the next one ready.” With deft movements, Edward pulled the current slide from where it was being held in place to the stage of the microscope, grabbed one of the three remaining slides, and secured it. He peeked in just as I was adding the finishing touches to my sketch. “That’s prophase,” he concluded immediately, pushing the microscope away.

I passed the paper to him and then asked sarcastically, “Mind if I check?”

He smiled and shook his head with a chuckle. “Not at all.”

I glanced in and found myself slightly disappointed to find the cell was, in fact, in prophase. I realized Edward had stopped writing. I glanced his direction and found he was staring intently at something on the paper. I followed his eyes to where his fingers were pressed against the parchment, over my sketch. “Problem?”

“No.” His voice was gentle, mesmerized. He then scooted the paper toward me and pointed to the image I’d drawn. “This is remarkable,” he told me, the honesty clear in his voice. I looked at the sketch and tilted my head, trying to see what was so remarkable about it. Though I’d always had an affinity for sketching and drawing, I would hardly have described my onion root tip cell as remarkable. Regardless, I swallowed and then answered, “Uh, thank you.” 

“You like to draw, then?” Edward pulled the paper back and finished filling out another portion. 

“Sure, when I have the time.”

He smiled again. “Fair enough. I have plenty of spare time on my hands, but I’m not sure I could ever manage to make a plant cell look so beautiful and complex.”

Once again, I was a bit taken aback by Edward’s words, by his genuinely kind and conversational tone. 

“That’s very nice of you to say.” Hoping to change the subject--excessive compliments made me uncomfortable--I switched out another slide and then glanced in. “This one’s Telophase. Want to check?” Though the sarcasm was still clear in my voice, it was mixed with a lighter tone of playfulness.

“No, I trust you,” Edward answered with a chuckle. He slid the paper back to me. I scanned the portion he’d filled out--both to check for accuracy, and to simply get another glimpse of his timelessly elegant script. My eyes fell to the sketch he’d made. It consisted of little more than lines and circles, strewn haphazardly about the box that had been provided. And I had to admit: next to his, my little sketch did look rather remarkable.

“I warned you I was no good.”

“I’ll believe you then, the next time you warn me about something. How about I sketch out the remaining slides, then?”

Edward grinned, flashing his perfect teeth. “That would preferable, thank you.” 

I nodded.

We finished the worksheet quickly, Edward writing and I sketching. I glanced at the clock and realized only fifteen minutes had lapsed. I surveyed the room around me to find all the other lab pairs had yet to label one slide successfully. Many had their textbooks out and seemed to be scanning the pages, as if for a lifeline. 

I raised my hand. Mr. Molina hurried over. “Question, Ms. Swan?”

“No, Mr. Molina, we’ve finished.”

His expression was a mix of suspicion, surprise, and pride. “You mind if I look over your answers?”

“Not at all.” I handed him the paper. His eyes scanned our answers in a scrutinizing manner, clearly searching for error. His eyebrows raised slightly when he caught sight of my drawings. “Which of you drew out the--oh--these three sketches?”

“That was me, Mr. Molina,” I answered timidly, my face flushing a dark pink. 

Mr. Molina sighed. “My goodness, Bella. Those are incredible. So accurate and detailed. You have a gift.” He sighed again. “Well, all your answers appear to be in tip-top shape. I must admit, I was anticipating this lab would take longer to complete, but you’ve done it quite successfully, so… If you two would like, you have the remainder of the period to talk or complete some additional assignments. Well done.”

“Thank you, Mr. Molina,” Edward thanked. He lifted his chair, scooting it imperceptibly closer to me. I crossed my arms and leaned away. Again, with the physical contact. I opened my mouth to ask a question, but Edward’s cool voice interrupted me before I could utter a single syllable. 

“So are you enjoying the weather?”

I scoffed.

“What?” he asked, a hint of an amused smile dancing over his lips.

“You’re asking me about the weather?” I asked in disbelief. “That’s your best attempt at small talk?”

Edward’s brows pulled together, though the smile still remained on his lips. “Yeah, I… I suppose I’m just trying to break the ice a bit. Again, trying to make up for my abhorrent behavior.”

“Hm,” I murmured, tugging absentmindedly at a loose thread on my shirt.

“So,” he prodded again, “are you enjoying the weather?”

My fingers stilled. “Not really,” I answered, gaze following Mr. Molina as he meandered around the room. “I prefer warm, dry weather.”

Edward chuckled. “I can’t say as I blame you.”

I raised a brow. “No? Then why are you here?” 

“My father,” Edward answered simply with a shrug. “He got a job at the hospital and it brought us here.”  
“Your father is a doctor?” I asked, feigning ignorance. Edward nodded, seemingly encouraged by my reciprocating response. “What kind?” 

Again, Edward chuckled as if he were privy to an inside joke. “He’s dabbled in a little bit of everything; surgery, general health, pediatrics…”

I had to admit, I was impressed. “How many MDs has he earned?”

“Quite a few.” 

Despite my admiration, I was confused, and I knew the furrow in my brow showed it. “How old is he? Because I was under the impression that he wasn’t particularly old. Certainly not old enough to hold several--” 

“He’s very intelligent,” Edward interrupted, dodging my question. “Speaking of fathers,” he continued seamlessly, “Chief Swann is yours, right?” 

I nodded, unfazed. “Firstly, let the record show that I acknowledge your dodgy change of subject and am permitting it. Secondly, you’re correct. Charlie’s my dad.” I watched his eyes scan the tabletop, as if searching for the right words. 

“If you don’t mind my asking…” 

Too late, I thought.

“... why are you back with him now? I only ask because I’ve attended Forks High for almost two years, and never once have I seen you here. So why the sudden return?”  
I levelled him with a scrutinizing gaze. “It’s complicated.”

His smile returned. I was quite surprised to see that it travelled to his golden eyes, crinkling them around the corners. “I’m sure I can keep up,” he assured me with a nod.

I scoffed. “I wasn’t questioning your intelligence.”

He waited. 

“I’m just not interested in exposing my motives and life details to a complete stranger.”

He contemplated this. “If I make some calculated guesses, will you tell me if I’m right?”   
I uncrossed my arms and linked my fingers together, steepling them across the tabletop. “Go on, then. I’m not obligated to answer any questions I don’t like, however.”

“Deal,” Edward agreed with a grin. He took a breath. “First guess: it’s been quite some time since you’ve been to Forks.”

I groaned internally. I could sense that, like myself, Edward was quite good at reading people. And, given the numerous rumors circulating around the school, he’d likely been able to assume much about me. I answered him honestly in spite of myself. “Yes. The last time I was with Charlie was over ten years ago.”

He frowned, contemplating. “Your relationship with him is strained, then?”

“No, not at all. Everyone--meaning Charlie, Renee and myself--just agreed it was best for me to be in Arizona with my mom. More opportunities, better weather, etc.”

“Ah, I see. So why is it you’ve decided to move back in with Charlie now?”

“That’s not a guess,” I pointed out. 

Edward chuckled. “You’re quite right. Forgive me.” I watched as he once again searched for the right words. My gaze travelled over his features, which--now I was seeing him up closely for the first time--really were practically perfect. His skin was marble smooth with a creamy pale pallor. His eyebrows, which were tinged with the same bronze as his styled hair, provided a stark contrast against his fair skin. Given their very symmetrical shape, I guessed he waxed them. His lips, much like his siblings’, were full and proportional. I noticed they were practically devoid of color, much like his skin and couldn’t help but wonder how long it had been since he’d been out in the sun. 

Then there were his eyes. I didn’t need to glimpse them another time to appreciate their unusual beauty. Though I wished I knew what the color of his real eyes were underneath the contacts, I had to admit that the honey golden ombre of his irises was rather mesmerizing. 

In short, there was no denying that Edward Cullen was beautiful. Stunning, even. But it took a lot more than physical beauty to dazzle me. 

“You’ve moved back in with Charlie because of troubles with your mother, then?” Edward continued. He didn’t seem to have noticed my examination of his features. 

I shrugged and shook my head. “Close. But not exactly.”

“I don’t suppose you’ll throw me a line on this one?” he asked, feigning a heartbroken expression.

I considered, worrying my bottom lip with my teeth as I did so. Against my better judgement, I decided to divulge his seemingly genuine curiosity. 

I heaved a sigh and threw Edward a wry, but disapproving look before starting. “My step-dad’s a minor league baseball player, hoping to make it major. And he’s about to start spring training, which means it’s time for him and Renee--my mom--to go on the road and travel. If I stayed in Phoenix, my mom wouldn’t have been able to travel with Phil, like I knew she wanted to. So I decided to move back here and spend some time with Charlie.” 

Edward pursed his lips, contemplating. Just then, the bell rang. I glanced at the clock, unable to believe we’d spent the entirety of the hour chatting. With a slight shake of my head, I reached for my bag and slung it over my shoulder. I glanced back to Edward to find him standing, books gathered in one hand. 

I was about to bid him farewell for the day when he gestured towards the door, indicating that I was to head out of the room and he would follow. I frowned slightly, but headed for the bustling hallway nonetheless. What had I done to garner this much attention from the Cullen who supposedly kept to himself? 

“So,” Edward started as we both merged into the busy hallway, “you moved all way down here to gloomy Forks just to make your mom happy?”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s not as simple as that.” I raised a playfully disapproving brow. “I thought you said you could keep up.” Edward chuckled and shook his head.

As we had reached my locker, I slid the combination lock and popped open my door with a sharp squeak. 

“Let me try again,” he persisted, running a hand over his sharp cheekbones. “You moved to Forks--even though you didn’t want--so that your mother could have a chance to do what really wanted: travel with your stepfather?”

I pursued my lips and levelled Edward with a scrutinizing gaze. Before I could retort, his deep, smooth voice interrupted my thoughts.

“Is sacrificing your own happiness for the sake others something you do frequently?” 

“Uh-uh.” I held up a finger. “It’s my turn. Why is it you’re so interested in me? In my motives for moving back here? And I want a legitimate answer this time.”

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, pained and apologetic. “I’m just trying to figure you out.” He scoffed quietly to himself and shook his head, as if he’d heard a familiar inside joke. “You’re very difficult for me to read.”

“Ditto,” I countered, raising an accusatory brow. “You’re quite the mystery around here, Edward Cullen.”

Edward’s demeanor changed suddenly. His features grew tight, withdrawn. “Well, I don’t want to be late for my next class, so if you’ll excuse me.” He turned suddenly on his heel, and then proceeded down the hallway, running a thin hand through his bronze hair.

I smiled reservedly to myself, rather pleased with the progress we’d made in class today. Though there was still much to learn and unravel about Edward Cullen, I couldn’t help but feel I’d taken a step closer today.


	5. The Almost Accident

That day, after class had finished, I meandered my way to the parking lot. I frowned as I exited the building and realized that a thin sheet of ice appeared to have coated the entire parking lot--including the stairs that lead down to it. I sighed, bundled myself tighter in my thick winter coat, and then carefully made the descent down to the parking lot. Though everyone else had all-but vacated the parking lot by the time I finally padded my way to my truck, I was still relieved not to have slipped or fallen on the ice--which was a miracle, really, given track record. As I fished around in my pocket for my keys, I once again had the distinct sensation that a very particular set of golden eyes were fixed upon me. 

I glanced behind me to find Edward gazing at me, an intensely pensive expression creasing his features. I could see his eyebrows tug closer together as our eyes met. For a moment, the intensity of our locked gaze was so overwhelming that I didn’t even notice the sound of screeching tires nearby. 

Eventually, however, my brain caught up with my ears. Edward and I broke our shared gaze at precisely the same time. My head snapped to the right just before my blood ran cold. Mike Newton’s monstrosity of a van was skidding over the ice--and barrelling directly towards me. Though my mind was screaming at me to move, duck, jump, run--anything--I found my legs and arms simply refused to cooperate. 

Everything suddenly seemed to move in slow motion. I could see Mike’s van move closer and closer with each passing moment, could see passing students who had not yet realized that the van was sliding out of control. Before I even had time to squeeze my eyes shut and brace for the inevitable impact, however, there was a strong gust of wind. Suddenly, Edward was standing in front of me, his alarmingly golden eyes mere inches from my own. It was then that three things happened in a fraction of a moment. 

First. In a movement that was so quick my brain didn't even have time to process it, Edward had wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled us both into a crouching position on the ground.

Second. The rear bumper of Mike Newton’s van made contact with the bed of my truck.

Third. As the front of Mike’s van swung across the ice towards us, Edward reached out a hand towards the car. I watched with parted lips as Mike’s van made contact with Edward’s splayed fingers and then stopped. 

For a few brief moments, all was silent. There was the faintest ringing in my ears. I gazed at Edward’s fingers, which rested perfectly against the side of Mike’s car--in the incredible dent of crumpled metal that he had just created. With a disbelieving exhale of breath, I turned my eyes towards Edward’s. I was acutely aware of his hand, resting firmly against the small of my back. His golden eyes bore intensely into my own. They were swimming with a strange mix of emotions that I couldn’t quite place. Exhilitration? Fear? Relief? 

Before I had time to think of something to say, however, Edward had set me very gently on the ground, and hopped over the back of my car. I saw him escape out of sight just before a wave of students rushed over, surrounding Mike’s van and my truck. Suddenly, there were hands on my forehead, voices in my ear, cell phones ringing. It was only when I heard Angela’s voice, calm and cool, that I was shaken from my stupor. 

“Don’t worry, Bella,” she murmured soothingly, “the cops are on the way. They’re going to get you to the hospital. Do you think anything’s broken? Any pain anywhere?”

 

“No,” I answered, surprised at the steadiness in my voice. “I--I don’t think I’m hurt.” I glanced back at the dent in Mike’s car and could still hear the sound of the metal groaning beneath Edward’s fingertips. “I’m not really sure how, but I actually feel fine.” 

Angela smiled, relief clear on her face. “You just sit tight. Stay on the ground until the police arrive, okay?”

I groaned at the word. Police. Charlie. 

“Bella? What’s wrong, are you hurt?”

“No, I… I just realized that my dad’s at the station.” 

Angela’s eyes widened in sympathetic understanding. “Ah, right.” 

 

***

 

The police arrived a few minutes later. Three squad cars and an ambulance surrounded the group of students that had converged upon the scene. I couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief when none of the license plates matched my dad’s. Maybe he hadn’t been at the station to hear the calls. 

After the police officers broke up the large group of students, informing them to head home, I was loaded into an ambulance and carted off to the hospital. The EMT did a brief one-over, but--after concluding I was in remarkably good health, all things considered--informed me that they would take me to the E.R. and let Dr. Cullen finish up the preliminary checks. This was fine by me. I was actually very interested in meeting Edward’s father, the doctor Charlie seemed so fond of. 

Though I actually felt very steady on my feet, the EMT insisted on walking me to the E.R. She helped me onto an empty bed and then hurried out, having received another call. I glanced around the E.R., which was actually busier than I would have imagined. I suddenly realized that Mike was laying down, a few beds down from my own. He had a cold compress pressed to his forehead. I could see a small trickle of dried blood near his temple. I couldn’t help but shake my head at the irony of our reversed roles.

My attention was torn away from Mike, however, by a commotion to my left. I glanced over my shoulder with a frown, and then instantly recognized Charlie’s familiar, enraged voice. “I am chief of police,” he shouted, “and she is my damn daughter, now let me through!” A few moments later, he burst through a set of double doors to my right, setting off an alarm. One of the disgruntled nurses that was following behind him hurried over to a nearby computer and switched off the alarm. I scowled in chagrin as Charlie caught sight of me and then hurried over.

“I wasn’t at the station, or else I would have driven to the high school and escorted you over here myself,” he explained hurriedly. He set a hand underneath my chin, and gently tilted my head upward, scrutinizing my face with his chestnut brown eyes. “Are you hurt?” he asked, concern lacing his gruff voice. 

“No, Dad,” I answered. “Really, I’m fine. The EMT couldn’t find anything wrong with me.”

“Then why are you in here?” Charlie asked skeptically. He lowered his hand from my chin.

I shrugged. “The EMT wanted Dr. Cullen to check me out, as well.”

As if on cue, the double doors at the opposite end of the room swung open and through them walked a man I instantly recognized at Dr. Cullen. I was actually beginning to wonder if the Cullen family had somehow invented a serum that allowed them to genetically engineer their own features. 

Though I would not have thought it possible, Dr. Carlisle Cullen was perhaps more physically stunning than any of his adopted children--including Edward. His hair, which was tinged a brilliant shade of gold, was clipped short on the sides. The remainder of his golden locks were swept off his forehead, sweeping slightly to the left. His lips were curved into a warm smile, which exposed a perfect row of teeth. Whereas Emmett seemed built for destruction, Carlisle seemed built for healing. His figure was lean but full; welcoming and safe. Though his cheekbones were defined beneath the pale expanse of his skin, his face was full, perfectly contoured with dips and hollows. 

“I heard the Chief’s daughter was here,” he called as he approached us. 

I really should have expected the timbre of his voice to be a perfect mix of baritone and gentility. 

Charlie chuckled humorlessly in response. 

As Dr. Cullen approached us, his white doctor’s robes flew open, revealing a fitted light blue dress shirt with a simple cream tie. I was beginning to understand where his children got their sense of style. 

He now stood in front of us, a hand in his pocket. “Well, I have always wanted to meet Charlie Swan’s daughter,” he started with a smile, looking at me. “Though I must admit, I would’ve hoped we’d be meeting under slightly better circumstances.” He extended a hand.

With a small smile of my own, I reached out and grasped his hand in my own. I was quite surprised to find his skin was very cold against my own. 

“So,” Dr. Cullen started, removing his hand, “what exactly happened, Bella?” I frowned, wondering how he would’ve known to call me Bella instead of Isabella, but answered just the same.

“One of the students--Mike Newton--was pulling out of the parking lot in his van and I think he just accelerated too quickly. He lost control of the car and it skidded toward me. Ended up hitting the back of my car…” I paused, wondering if should tell Dr. Cullen about Edward’s remarkable and mysterious entrance. “Actually,” I started against my better judgement, “I don’t want to sound particularly dramatic, but I think Edward may have saved me a bit.”

Dr. Cullen smiled warmly and then reached into his pocket and pulled out a small flashlight.

“Edward?” Charlie repeated softly. “Is that your boy, Doctor?”

“Yes, indeed it is,” Carlisle answered easily. He held up a single finger and then pointed the small flashlight at my eyes. “How do you mean, Bella?” he asked. “Also, keep your gaze fixed on my finger here, I’m just going to shine this light quickly in your eyes, test your dilation.”

I did as was instructed and continued. “Well…” I struggled to describe what had happened in a way that seemed believable. In other words, I was going to have lie, because what had actually happened was far from believable. “I guess he must have seen the van skidding toward me before I did, because he ran over to me and pushed me out of the way of the van.”

Dr. Cullen’s gaze flicked to me, and for the briefest of moments, surprise and appreciation seemed to sparkle in his golden eyes. “Well, that’s quite incredible. I’ll have to talk to him about it when I get home today. Regardless, it sounds like you were very lucky.” 

Charlie hummed appreciatively in agreement. 

“Now, if you wouldn’t mind lying back for me, Bella, I’m just going to do a quick check--make sure you don’t have any deep bruises, broken bones.”

I hesitantly laid back on the stiff hospital bed. I swallowed deeply as Dr. Cullen gently prodded at my legs, arms, and neck. 

“Well, I don’t see or feel anything out of place.” He settled a hand on his hip. “You’re free to go. Though I would suggest you take it easy for the next couple of days and get plenty of rest. There’s more than just physical repercussions when an accident like this--or in your case, almost accident--occurs.” The warm smile returned, instantly lighting his features. “It was very lovely to meet you, Bella. Again, I apologize that our first meeting was under such unfortunate circumstances.” He turned to Charlie and nodded. “If you have any questions, feel free to give me a call. Otherwise, she’s good to go. I’ll see you around, Chief Swann.”

“Thanks, Dr. Cullen,” Charlie sighed in relief. 

I watched out of the corner of my eye as Dr. Cullen glided away, attending to one of the patients at the opposite end of the room, and then turned my attention back to Charlie. He had his hands on his hips and was shaking his head. 

“Dad? Is everything okay?” I hopped off the bed and touched his arm. I nearly jumped when he wrapped both of his arms around me, pulling me into a tight hug.

“I’m just really glad you’re okay, Bells,” Charlie murmured, tucking my head under his chin. “That could have been a lot worse.”

Though every fibre, every nerve of my being was screaming, begging Charlie to release me, I nodded against his shoulder. “I know, Dad. Let’s both just be grateful that it wasn’t.”

Charlie released me from his warm hold with a firm nod of his head. “Agreed.” He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. “Right, then. Ready to go? You have everything you need?” 

I nodded. “Yep, I think so.”

“Good.”

We made our way out a set of double doors, which led into a hallway lined with windows. Charlie walked alongside me for a few paces before stopping suddenly. “Oh,” he murmured, regret creasing his features. 

I frowned. “What, what’s wrong?”

He sighed, settling a hand on his hip. “You need to… to call your mother.”

I groaned. “You told her?” 

Charlie shrugged, as if to say, What was I supposed to do?

Rolling my eyes, I yanked my phone out of my pocket. “Great.”

With an apologetic clap on my shoulder, Charlie started to walk past me. “You call her, I’ll go check you out.” He disappeared down the hallway. 

Sighing deeply, I ran a hand along my forehead and then started typing Renee’s number into my phone. Just before I pressed send, however, I heard a familiar voice echoing its way up the corridor. I leaned around the corner and glanced down. Edward stood with Dr. Cullen and Rosalie, all three with their back to me. I frowned. What was she doing here? More to the point--what was Edward doing here?

I leaned ever so slightly closer, hoping to catch a glimpse of their conversation. Though I couldn’t hear the words the three were sharing, I could hear that Rosalie's tone was tense and angry. Edward, by comparison, sounded both frustrated and exasperated. The conversation suddenly went quiet. I gazed up to find that all three were staring at me, having clearly noticed my presence. 

I rolled my eyes as my face flushed a dark pink before stepping out from where I’d been eavesdropping. I made my way towards them and was rather startled to find Rosalie glaring murderously at me. I tried flashing her a warm smile, but to no avail. After murmuring something to his father and sister that I couldn’t hear, Edward broke away from the trio and strode towards me. 

“Are you all right?” he asked, before he’d even reached me. I was taken aback by the genuine concern that laced his voice.

I shrugged. “Perfectly fine, according to your dad.” Having closed the distance between us, we both stopped and stared at each other. 

“Ah, good,” Edward said, all traces of concern now removed from his voice. I watched as his expression once again grew guarded and composed. His physical stance changed into one that appeared to be forced relaxation. He ran a hand through his hair. “Amazing Mike’s car just happened to stop like that.” 

I squinted up at Edward and smiled disbelievingly. “Yeah,” I agreed sarcastically, “amazing how it just stopped all of a sudden with no help whatsoever from you.” 

Edward frowned. I could tell it wasn’t genuine. “What are you talking about? Help from me? The car stopped once it hit your bumper, thankfully.”

I scoffed and crossed my arms. “Are you really going to try to convince me that I didn’t see you stop the van with your hand?” I shook my head. “What the hell, Edward? I saw you. There’s a damn dent in the side of Mike’s van where your hand was.” 

Edward’s expression drew even colder. I watched as he set his jaw. “No one’s going to believe you.”

“You thought I was going to tell people what I saw?” I asked with a dismissive scoff. “Edward, I can’t tell anyone. Namely because no one would believe me. I don’t even believe me,” I added, more as an afterthought.

“Good. It’s best not believe in monsters.” 

I frowned at this, unsure what he meant. Before I could pursue it anymore, however, Edward had glanced over his shoulder with a grimace. “Excuse me,” he murmured with a respectful nod. He made to leave and then added, gently, “I’m glad you’re okay.” Though he had tried to hide it, I could see a complex mix of emotions brewing behind his golden eyes before he disappeared down the hallway.


	6. Edible Art?

Chapter Five: Edible Art? 

The following day, I followed Angela into the cafeteria, where we found Jess had already saved us a table. 

“I’ll be right there,” I told her, nodding towards her packed lunch. (I’d already explained to Angela that Charlie was hopeless in the food department and that I was too lazy to make my own lunch every day.) She smiled with a small chuckle and then headed for the table whilst I headed for the cafeteria line. As we were one of the first students to make it to the cafeteria, there was barely anyone in line for food. I meandered my way through the short line, generally unimpressed with my options. I paused at the end of the line, rather thankful to see a small spread of fresh fruit--a rarity for the lunch line. I made to pick up an apple that had been set on the edge of the counter, but ended up bumping it off the side of the counter instead, when I jumped at the sound of a familiar voice. 

“Edible art?” Edward asked, easily catching the apple before it fell to the floor. 

I leveled him with an unamused glare before snatching the apple back out of his hand.  
“Thanks,” I mumbled, setting the fruit on my tray. After glancing around to make sure there was no one in line behind me, I leaned against the counter, crossed my arms over my chest, and then squinted suspiciously up at Edward. “Talking to me today, then?” I asked, just a hint of bite in my tone.

Edward chuckled with a shake of his head. “Trying to.”

I nodded my head once before smiling. “You know, your mood swings are making it really hard to figure you out, Edward Cullen.”

Once again, Edward’s smile faltered. “Maybe that’s for the best,” he murmured quietly. 

“What the hell does that even mean?” I asked accusingly. I was getting tired of the mystery.

A small smile, mischievous and curious, danced over Edward’s lips. “What are your theories?” 

I shook my head before replying sarcastically, “Radioactive spider? Kryptonite? Struck by lightning?”

Edward pondered. The atmosphere between the two of us suddenly changed. “Those are all superhero stories, right? A once-in-a-million occurrence transforms an ordinary character into a hero. Did it ever occur to you that I might not be the hero?”

I shook my head once. “First. Nobody talks like that. Second. You’re not the villain--you couldn’t be.”

“And why’s that?” he asked, still completely serious.

I pursued my lips, a hint of a smile on them. “Would the villain have rescued the damsel in distress from a near and certain death?” I drawled sarcastically, before adding--more seriously, “You’re not the villain, Edward. And frankly, I don’t understand why you seem so set on convincing me that you are.” 

I watched as Edward’s honey-golden eyes fell to the ground. For the briefest of moments, there was a sadness contained deep within them. Just a moment later, however, his gaze was once again guarded and hesitant. “It’s for the best,” he murmured, as if to himself.

I quickly realized this route of conversation was not worth pursuing today and decided to change tactics. I nodded in the direction of Jess and Angela. “We’re going to the beach after school today. Any interest in joining us?”

Edward’s lips curved into the smallest of smiles. “Today, you said? I’m not sure.” He pursed his lips. “Which beach?”

I frowned, trying to remember the name of the beach. “La… Guardia?” I joked, quirking an eyebrow. 

“La Push,” Edward provided with a slight chuckle before his eyes once again saddened. “Probably not.”

I frowned again. “Well, why not? Are you busy?”

“Yes,” Edward answered--an obvious lie. 

I levelled him with a critical gaze, eyes squinted. “Fine.” I knew that he knew I didn’t buy his lie. I glanced over at the table where Jessica and Angela were seated and noticed how they were both eyeing me--Jessica with a murderous scowl marring her lips and Angela with a knowing smile. I shook my head with a chuckle. “I’d better get back to my friends.” I nodded in their direction once again. “Though maybe I’m safer over here with you. Jess looks like she wants to murder me.” 

I chuckled, expecting Edward to do the same, but instead he murmured quietly, “You are most certainly not safer with me.” 

I rolled my eyes once again. “What the hell? You have to stop talking like that. You’re starting to freak me out.” Without giving Edward another chance to comment on how it was good that he was making me uncomfortable, I grabbed my lunch try and then stalked back to the table, bracing myself as Jess’ jealous gaze followed me. “Hey,” I murmured, taking a seat next to Angela and across from Jessica; it seemed like the safest spot at the table. 

“Hey,” Angela chuckled, shooting a knowing and amused glance in Jessica’s direction. “What’s going on with you and Edward, hmm?”

 

“Yeah,” Jess added, attempting--and failing--to sound nonchalant and unconcerned, “what were you two talking about?” I saw her eyes flick to Edward’s table once before turning back to me.

“Nothing,” I chuckled. “He just happened to be standing there.”

Angela made a small nose of disagreement. “No, he definitely eyed you up and then joined you.”

“Oh, really? Well, he didn’t want anything. I, uh… I invited him to come to La Push with us after school.” I caught Angela and Jessica’s curious (desperate) expressions. “He declined,” I added quickly. 

“Yeah, they don’t ever really seem to want to hang out with the rest of us,” Angela noted, crossing her arms. “It was really nice of you to invite him, though.” 

Suspecting that Jess might very well have a conniption fit if we didn’t change subjects, I asked them how they thought they did on the English exam we’d taken 1st hour. 

 

***

 

After school, we all agreed to meet at Mike’s house, as his van was the only vehicle large enough to carry all of us to the beach. I walked out of school with Angela and--in what had almost become routine--exchanged the usual glances with the Cullen siblings. Per the norm, Edward appeared to be arguing with Rosalie, who always fixed her icy gaze upon me. I ignored them and then waved goodbye to Angela. 

 

***

 

The wind was particularly vicious today--compounded by the mist and waves from the bay. Angela and I huddled together in the van, a blanket draped over the two of us while Jess and the guys suited up. We chuckled as Mike complained about the cold and insisted on returning home, while Jess berated them. 

Suddenly, Angela changed the subject. “So, I keep thinking that Eric is going to ask me to go to prom with him, and then he just… doesn’t. Any advice?”

I chuckled and shook my head, unsure why she would turn to me for relationship advice. “Well… if he won’t ask you, then you should ask him. Take control of the situation. Put fate in your own hands.” I grinned at her. I grabbed her hands dramatically. “You are a strong, independent woman. If you want to go to prom with Eric, then you should take the initiative and ask him to go with you.” 

Angela grinned. “You think so?”

 

I nodded. “Absolutely. Go for it.”

Angela was just about to start another conversation, when I heard a familiar voice. I glanced out to the beach and saw Jacob, flanked by two other young men. I smiled and waved. “Hey, Jake!”

His eyes settled on me and a wide grin lit his features. “Bella!” He hurried over to the van. I grinned in return and hopped out of the van to meet him. With greeted each other with a hug. I shivered slightly as we released each other and then hurried back to the relative warmth of the van.

“What are you doing here?” I asked through chattering teeth.

“You’re on my res,” Jacob laughed with a shake of his head. 

“Oh.” I rolled my eyes, feeling foolish for not realizing how close we were to the reservation. “Right.” I suddenly realized, in the deep recesses of my mind, that Jessica was talking to Mike about Edward. I glanced in their direction and Jacob, following my gaze, did so, too. 

“Bella invited him.” 

Mike glanced over at me, a strange expression twisting his features. “You invited Cullen?” 

I was about to answer when one of Jacob’s friends--a boy with long hair whom I did not recognize--made a guttural noise that sounded very much like a scoff. I raised a quizzical and somewhat accusatory brow at him. “Problem?”

The boy, having noticed the expression I was throwing his way, allowed his gaze to fall to the ground. 

 

Jacob, sensing my confusion, supplied, “It’s nothing, it’s just… the Cullens don’t come here.” 

I frowned slightly. He didn’t seem to think this was an unusual thing to say. I glanced around. Neither, apparently, did my friends. Angela was looking at me as if she was about to explain that this was another one of those conventions of the Cullens that everyone just expected. 

Growing more and more confused, I hopped out of the truck, wrapped my coat tightly around my body, and then stalked off towards the misty sea. A few moments later, I heard the sound of crunching stones behind me; someone was running to catch up with me. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Jacob, his thin coat hanging loosely around his frame, running towards me. I managed a small smile and then slowed to allow him to catch up to me. 

“Where are you going?” he asked, that familiar, warm smile dancing easily over his lips. 

“Just… walking. I can only take so much of those guys.” I gestured vaguely to my friends in the van.

“Yeah. I feel that. I spend so much time on the reservation, with the same guys.” 

I nodded. A comfortable silence fell between us as we walked, the sound of our tandem feet crunching over the rocks filling the space. After a few moments, I finally asked, “What did you mean when you said the Cullens don’t come here? I keep trying to figure them out, but nobody seems to have any real answers.” 

Jacob shook his head. I could tell there was something he was about to say, but was holding back. “Oh come on!” I groaned, throwing my head back in a very dramatic fashion. “Not you, too! And here I thought you were different.” I grinned at him.

This appeared to have the desired effect. Jacob grinned and then started to speak. “There’s this ancient... legend, if you will, that we have here on the Res. It’s rumored that, hundreds of years ago, members of the Quileute tribe--which is supposedly descended from wolves--were hunted down by a group of vicious and deadly man-eating humans. These humans, which our histories describe as being very pale and having blood-red eyes, seemed to be immortal. They fed on the blood of other humans. Eventually, the Quileute tribe was able to hunt the cold ones, as we call them, to extinction. Or so we thought. 

“It is rumored that some of our tribesmen stumbled upon a clan of cold ones within this last century. They were just about to fight the cold ones when the immortals explained that they were different from the man-eating cold ones my ancestors had fought. They claimed that only hunted animals and were not a threat to humans. The legend says that those Quileute tribesmen made a deal with the cold ones: to only hunt animals and to remain off our land.” Jacob suddenly chuckled and then shook his head. 

I’d been listening so intently that, when he did so, I nearly jumped. I realized we were no longer walking, but had come to a complete stop. I was still shivering. “What?” I asked, curious. 

He turned to look at me, the grin still spread wide over his lips. “The legend tells us that these cold ones return to the area every few decades, but that they still uphold that original treaty that was made. People like to pretend that the Cullens are the source of those legends. Which is crazy, of course.” 

I grinned easily and nodded in agreement. Inside, however, I couldn’t help but notice that the Cullen family did seem to fit the description of the “cold ones” Jacob had just described. My expression must have betrayed my thoughts because Jacob gently shook my shoulder. 

“It’s just a rumor, Bella. A legend. It’s not real,” he laughed with a shake of his head. “Sorry if I freaked you out.”

I merely smiled. “We should probably head back to the van.” 

 

 

***

 

 

That night, as I lay in bed, I couldn’t help but re-play Jacob’s legend in my mind. Though I knew it was ridiculous, I couldn’t help but consider how the Cullens really did seem to match up to Jacobs’ descriptions of the cold ones. Their eyes were oddly colored and their skin was unusually pale. And, now that I thought about it, I don’t think I’d ever noticed them actually eating in the lunchroom. Sure, they all grabbed trays of food but, not I thought about it... none of them ever touched it; their trays were always completely full when they dumped them in the trash. 

Thrashing myself out of bed in embarassed frustration, I stalked over to my laptop and opened it. Squinting slightly in the glaring and unnatural white light, I opened Google’s homepage and then started typing in as many keywords as I could think of: Quileute legend; cold ones; ancient legends; immortals. I clicked the Search button and waited for my dad’s incredibly slow wi-fi to work. Finally, the page I loaded. I scrolled through the results, looking for anything that would stand out as being immediately useful. 

The more I scrolled, the more I realized that each site appeared to be directing users to a single book. I went back to the top of the page and clicked the first link. It took me to a webpage for a bookstore in Port Angeles. The book, entitled “Quileute Histories and Legends: The Events, Histories, and Legends That Shaped the Modern Quileute tribe.” In the description of the book, I found a single mention to the “cold ones.” 

I clicked off the page and went backwards. After checking out a few of the other results, I realized that each one eventually sent me back to this bookstore’s webpage. After being directed back to the bookstores page for the sixth time, I finally bit the bullet and decided to see if the book was available digitally. I groaned in frustration when I saw that it was only available in-store. I didn’t know when I would be able to make it out to Port Angeles and my curiosity was digging at my brain and my insides. 

Closing my laptop, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to convince myself of my own foolishness. Of course the Cullens were not immortal cold ones. That was impossible and, just as Jacob had said, nothing more than a legend. And yet, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was just… off about the Cullens. They didn’t seem to fit into the social or cultural norms. And their physical superiority was simply unnerving and unnatural. 

As I once again settled under the covers, I squeezed my eyes shut and willed my brain to be silent. After what felt like hours of unrest, I glanced at the clock. 2:37 a.m. It was going to be a long night.


End file.
